


Can I buy you a drink?

by charleslikesjazzes



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron Burr-centric, Bad English, Gen, Past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Poor Aaron Burr, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleslikesjazzes/pseuds/charleslikesjazzes
Summary: // old //Aaron Burr, after some time for himself, decides that maybe Alex doesn't have to be alone.
Relationships: Aaron Burr & Alexander Hamilton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Can I buy you a drink?

Aaron let his eyes watch his friend, another time.

_Dead._

This only word was somehow his legacy, strangely not one of the ones his daughter was happy to receive from him.

_Murderer._

Another word, another heavy thing to live with. As he used to say to everyone, Hamilton really made him the one who paid for it.

_Traitor._

No one said him that, he just let the word cover it. Like a storm sky you don’t really want to deal with, but it somehow catch you even in your house.

_Destroyer._

This one, even worse, came from his daughter. His Theodosia, the girl he wanted on his side more than anything. Burr was now unsure of everything. Nothing could now make sense, not after his friend’s death. Not after his friend’s murder.

He sighed and, another time, he headed to Trinity Church, his head heavy because of the thoughts, and the tears he knew he was going to see on his own face. He walked in the sanctuary, letting himself breathe when he didn’t saw anyone in. He was so scared of finding Eliza, or maybe Angelica. He didn’t know what to say, in that case.

He somehow smiled, at the sisters’ thought. His mind went straight on to the Winter’s Ball, way back in seventy-eighty. The part that made him smile, was when Hamilton confessed him that he couldn’t chose one of the Schuyler sisters.

Hamilton, not Alexander. He couldn’t even think his name, after what he had done. He arrived near the grave, his hat firmly in his hand. He sighed, again, and then he let out a little smile, from God only know where.

He sat down on the ground, thanking every saints for the present of nobody in the chapel, and he took a glass out of his pocket. He grinned, filling it with some water. Only after some second left for thinking of what he was doing, he posed the glass in front of the grave, avoiding like a master the big, white name written on it.

“Alexander Hamilton”.

He wasn’t ready for that, even after five years. Even after he found another wife and even he had now new children. A smile appeared on his face, among the tears. He didn’t had the right to stay there, sitting on the earth near Hamilton’s grave. He wasn’t allowed to be happy and alive, when one of his friends -people still like to forget it, Hamilton and him were friends- was under cold earth, and his family was crying his death, even after the years.

He hummed something, that the someone that was here (even if he was not able to be seen) heard, because it was just to much, and he couldn’t handle that. “If there is a reason- If there is a reason why I am still alive when so few survived, then... I am willing to wait for it, I am-” he sobbed, sure he couldn’t end what he was saying.

Hamilton’s ghost, on the other hand, was trying to understand why Aaron was there. At the end -he had a lot of time for all of the thinking-thing, on the other side- all of the parts of him where sure that Burr had his good reasons for shoting him. Not only that, but he thought that, in Aaron’s shoes, he would do the same thing.

He sat near Burr, even if he couldn’t see him, and he stared at the glass. He couldn’t understand its utility.  
After another thinking pause, Aaron aimed the glass at the sky, with tears on his cheeks.

“I don’t know what you want to do, but you can, Burr. I know that,” breathed the ghost, letting Aaron think that were his thoughts. Some humans are stupid, right?  
He sobbed, the glass unsure in his hand, but he didn’t let it fall. It was way too important.

“Finally, Hamilton. The drink I promised you,” said the vice-president, before jumping up like he had a gun on his back and, watching another time if there where people, made his way out of the chapel.


End file.
